


Their Words Against Mine

by DawnsEternalLight



Series: Dick and Dami Week 2019 [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Dick and Dami Week 2019, Fluff, Gen, Paparazzi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 10:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18408497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Damian Wayne respects Richard Grayson, and refuses to allow any idiot reporters to slander his name, on paper or in person. Or the story of Damian both causing a scene and making Dick see sense afterwords.





	Their Words Against Mine

**Author's Note:**

> For Dick and Dami week 2019 day 2 Paparazzi

“I want it noted that I am against this entire endeavor.” Damian said, his voice stiff as his posture as he allowed his brother to straighten his bow tie.

“You’re against opening a children’s hospital?” Grayson raised an eyebrow at him.

Damian scowled, “I have no qualms with that. It is the need to parade ourselves in front of the public like prized cows in order to gain the extra funding needed for the project.”

Grayson hummed, smiling at him, “Prized cows eh? I thought you’d like cows of all things.”

“Bovine are fine creatures, Grayson, but they do not belong in suits or with their hair falsely glued down.”

“Now you have a problem with your hairstyle?” Grayson’s smile widened a bit, his eyes glittering.

He huffed at his brother, crossing his arms, “I said I was against the entire thing.”

“Just not the hospital.”

“Ninety-eight percent then.”

Grayson chuckled and stood, “You know, I used to love going to parties with Bruce. There was always enough food to eat, and gossip to be heard. The nights Selina showed up were always the best, Bruce got this constipated look on his face when she walked in like…” he cut off coughing lightly, “Never mind, the point is try to have some fun today. It’s at a garden and everything.”

“I can only hope Poison Ivy chooses this particular park to attack. That would make the afternoon fun.” Damian said, stepping around Grayson to examine himself in the mirror.

He resisted the urge to muss his dark hair, slicked back smoothly against his head. Instead he tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves, trying to work some of the starch from them. He was not looking forward to being stuck outside dressed in full sleeves. Even with Gotham’s chill it would be stuffy and uncomfortable.

Grayson tugged him into a side hug, “Humor me, Damian. It’s the least you can do after yesterday.”

Damian felt a blush creep into his cheeks. Grayson was not letting up on his teasing over Damian’s disastrous attempts at helping relieve his stress. The only thing he’d managed to get right the day before was ordering lunch. Everything else had been a failure deserving of immediate rebuke. Teasing was the least of what Damian should have expected.

“As you wish. I will attempt to be on my best behavior.”

~

The party was as bad as Damian was expecting. The weather turned out to be unseasonably warm, making his jacket itchy and sweltering. Damian constantly refilled his cup with water from the dispensers and tried not to allow the crowd to jostle him so it spilled on his suit. Being wet would not help.

There were people everywhere. The party itself was set up at a large pavilion in the gardens, set aside specifically for events like this. Streamers hung like they were at some kind of party instead of a fundraiser, and servers milled around with more snacks than even this crowd could consume.

People wandered the paths, some dressed as colorfully as the flowers they were passing, others as if they were at a funeral instead of a fundraising event. Damian could relate to those people, he wanted to be here as little as they did.

The worst thing was all the reporters. They flooded the area, shiny badges glinting in the sun, notepads poised for juicy gossip, and cameras pointed in all the worst places.

He hated it, hated having a hundred eyes on him waiting for the inevitable slip up. Mother had trained him to be collected in any situation. Had told him his life could be that of one in the spotlight, a leader to speak from podiums and send the masses cheering. Damian did not want to be that person. He did not like the press and noise of people, and did not like the extra weight of needing to look as perfect as he should act. To say everything right and play the game of gossip and politics.

He preferred to move in the background, or to work with few people. To say what he meant and know that others were doing the same. This was flippery and nonsense.

“When can we leave.” Damian asked, tugging on Grayson’s sleeve.

“Dames, we only just got here.”

“We have been here two hours already and the speeches have not even begun yet.” Damian said, sourly.

His brother gave him a small pitying smile, “You know we’ve got to stay for most of it, we’re the ones hosting it.”

Damian huffed.

The event dragged. On and on it went. Damian was pinched and poked, shoved, and forced to make small talk for longer than any sane person could be asked to last. His patience was as thin as the wrapper for Pennyworth’s spring rolls, transparent and liable to break at any moment.

When at last the speeches were over there was more milling around. The press were more insistent now, wanting words with Grayson and Damian about their plans, about their reasons for wanting to open a hospital. As if someone needed a reason to open a hospital that was not “Because it is needed”.

Damian wandered away from Grayson for a moment to collect more snacks (the only positive to this entire ordeal). When he returned, he found his brother chatting with a tall blond woman in a dress that would make Drake blush.

She giggled and let her hand fall against Grayson’s upper arm. Grayson removed the hand with a gentle motion, letting it drop away from him, never missing a beat of the conversation. That was good, Damian did not wish to berate the man for being unfaithful to Barabara. There were few women in the world worthy of Richard Grayson, and this blond had done nothing so far to prove she was one of them.

The woman left, only to have her place taken by a sandy haired reporter. He was a head shorter than Grayson, but slid up to him like they were the best of friends.

“She’s a looker.” he started, notepad flipped open. “I bet I know who you’re headed out with after this.”

Damian stared at the man. Had he just said what Damian believed he had? How dare he even suggest Grayson would fool around with any woman he spoke with that had a pleasing figure? Grayson had far more taste and class than that. Besides, had the man not seen the way Grayson had pushed her advances aside? The fool was blind.

Grayson laughed, “It was just small talk. I’ve done the same with plenty of lovely ladies today.”

It was obvious the man did not believe Grayson, his eyes slit, like a vipers, “And who’s going to take your adorable brother home then? Or are you going to subject him to,” he smirked, “*all that*”

Damian spluttered, fury rising in his throat, “You would dare insinuate such things about Richard?” he roared and darted forward to stand in front of his brother.

The reporter smirked and crouched to get on eye level with Damian, “Surprised to learn about your big brother’s dark side?”

Damian punched him, one single precise jab to the nose. He did it at such an angle to break, but not shove the bone into the man’s forehead. His face was a fountain of blood, but Damian had done no permanent damage as long as he took care of it.

“He would *never*--” Damian shouted, but was cut off as an arm looped around his middle and pulled him back away from the stunned reporter.

“Damian!” Grayson’s voice was a hiss, “Stop it.”

“I shall not! Did you hear what that man said?”

“I did and I’m going to take care of it.” Damian could hear Grayson’s teeth grind, “You are going to stand behind me and not move or say a word until I am done and then we are leaving.”

Grayson dropped Damian roughly behind him, and turned to apologize, _apologize_ , to the man.

Damian fumed. He fumed as Grayson soothed frayed nerves. He fumed as was frogmarched by his brother out of the garden. He fumed in the car. He fumed the whole way into his room where he was told to “stay until I’m ready to talk to you” by Grayson.

Only when the door was shut and Damian had fallen back onto his bed did he huff, and allow his fury to dissipate some.

He cleared his mind just enough to switch his irritation from the idiot reporter to Grayson. How could he simply allow such slander against him? If those words had been directed at Damian, he was confident Grayson would have jumped to his defense in a heartbeat. He had done so many times before.

Damian rolled over onto his side and grabbed one of his pillows to squeeze against his chest. He was an idiot. No matter Grayson’s reaction to the man, Damian’s had been wrong. He had promised to be on his best behavior and he had assaulted a man.

It would be all over the news and in every paper tomorrow. Damian could see the headlines now: Youngest Wayne Has Major Screw Loose, Hits Random Men at Parties.

He buried his face in his pillow.

Grayson found him still curled in on it, his only change of position being to lift his face and rest his chin on it. He flicked his eyes up to Grayson when the man entered. He flicked them over again when Grayson sat on the bed, the mattress dipping under him and pulling Damian’s legs forward.

“So.” Grayson said.

Damian resisted the urge to groan.

“What was all that about today?”

“I do not wish to talk about it.” Damian said.

He didn’t want to give Grayson an excuse, nor did he wish to lie. He was well aware he’d messed up. He wished to move past it all. Still, that man’s words dug at Damian.

“He was an idiot.” Damian murmured, “Slandering you as such.”

Grayson chuckled lightly, “He was, but Damian you’re going to have to learn to deal with idiots like that. They do that to rile people up and spread gossip.”

Damian shifted to look better at his brother, “It is stupid.”

“Yeah, it is.”

* * *

The next day the papers were bad. They were not worded exactly as Damian had predicted, but they were not flattering. They were especially cruel to Father. Which was foolish because Father was dead.

Not that the media knew that. That fool Hush had made a public spectacle of himself before they could decide how to announce Father’s passing. So now, whenever Damian did something and the papers berated him they still berated Father.

Damian saw Grayson’s face when he read the article. Damian had accessed an electronic copy the moment it was available, but Grayson held onto the silly habit of reading a physical copy. Something about Father doing the same thing and nostalgia.

It was easy to read Grayson’s expressions as he looked at the paper. As he flipped from the front page image of Damian punching the reporter to the actual article. When he read how the media railed against such a terrible parent, one who could not teach their child to be civil in public. A person who had failed. They used the word failed, and Damian knew the moment Grayson read it.

It was in his eyes. The light amusement that had been there, holding out against the terrible words faded. The weight of failure tugged his lips down, sinking any hope of a smile like cement shoes on a mob hit.

“The article is a sham.” Damian stated, “The writers are idiots.”

Grayson gave Damian a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I know, kiddo.”

Damian scowled at him, “Take no stock in their words, Richard. They are false.”

His brother stood, and patted him on the shoulder, “I know, thanks.” his smile was more genuine now.

Grayson did not listen to Damian. An oversight Damian would have to discuss with him later, but for now he had to deal with the repercussions. He had to, because his Batman was being an idiot.

Grayson was grumpy. Worse than that, he was deflated. Damian hated seeing him that way. All day he cast furtive glances at Damian, and sighed. The newspaper was rumpled. More than rumpled, it was torn and squished and stained.

“Richard.” Damian said, pulling his brother aside before he stepped into the elevator to go down to the bunker.

“What’s up, Damian?”

“I need to speak with you.” Damian said, motioning for the couch, “It will not take long, but it is important.”

Mild boredom switched to concern on Grayson’s face and he frowned at Damian, “Alright, what’s this all about?” he asked, heading towards the couch.

Damian waited for him to sit down, and stood in front of him, arms crossed.

“You are being an idiot.” he started.

“Damian--”

“Listen to me, Richard.” Damian lifted the soiled newspaper for his brother to see, “This is nothing but lies and slander.”

“You did punch a man.”

“I defended your honor.” Damian said, fire in his tone, “And if the fools who call themselves the media gatekeepers for this country believe that to be wrong or a failure of teaching then they are the disappointments. I am only the person I am because of you, because of what you have done for me. I defended you because I cannot bear to hear anyone speak ill of someone I respect.”

He crumpled the paper and dropped it on the floor, “If you continue to wallow in self pity over this I will be forced to assume you believe everything you have told me is progress as a failure.” Damian said, then added in a softer tone, “I would very much like to continue thinking of it as a success.”

“Aww, Dames.” Grayson’s eyes were shiny now, and he stood, reaching out to pull Damian into a hug.

“I would punch him again. No one is allowed to speak ill of you.” Damian said.

“I know you would.” Grayson pressed his face into Damian’s hair, “Even if it’s not the best of tactics, it’s a very sweet sentiment. Thanks for reminding me of how wrong those guys are.”

Damian returned the hug, squeezing his brother tightly, “Of course, it is my job after all.”

He felt Grayson’s laugh brush across his hair and scalp, “That it is, kiddo. That it is.”

 


End file.
